Page 34 of The Billionaire's Kiss
“A beave?” I wasn’t sure what she meant by that. “You don’t like my casual look?”
She grabbed my hand, pulling me inside, then closing the door. “I don’t want that horrible Mona seeing you like this. She’d charge ya like a mad bull, she would. I love the way you look. A beave is like a sexy beast.”
“Ah, a sexy beast.”I like that.“Well, thank you.”
She looked cute as hell in a pale green tracksuit and a white apron from one of our restaurants, Essence. The name was embroidered in the middle at the top of the apron, covering her chest. “And you look adorable.” Some amazing smells were wafting around the room, and I spotted two silver domes on the small dining table. “You got us take-out?”
“Better than that. I cooked it for us. Chef Giovani allowed me to use his kitchen during the slow hours today.”
“You’re something else, Orla.” I was shocked that she’d talked one of our chefs into letting her do that. But then again, she must’ve told him she was cooking it for me. “I can’t wait to dig in.”
“Great.” She pulled the domes off the plates and introduced me to the meal she’d prepared for us. “We have Shepard’s pie as the main course, with a side of cheesy Guinness bread. And Irish Barmbrack for dessert. I also made a pitcher of Irish martinis.” She filled each martini glass, and then we took our seats.
I’d had Shepard’s pie before, but hers was much better. “Yum,” I moaned as I chewed the first bite. “This tastes amazing.”
Smiling from ear to ear, she clapped her hands. “Yeah? I’m so glad you like it.”
The bread was light and fluffy and tasted like heaven. “Oh, my God, this is good too!”
Pride radiated around her. “The bread is one of my specialties. I make it at the bar too and serve it in wee chucks.”
“Lucky me, to have such a good cook as my girl.” I winked at her then took a sip of the drink. “It’s sort of like a dirty martini. but there’s something else. It’s barely there, but it’s there.”
“I swirled the chilled pitcher with Irish whisky before pouring in the other ingredients. Placing her elbows on the table, she gazed at me. “I like that you’re taking the time to experience all the flavors.”
“Eat, don’t just watch me eat.” I waved my fork at her. “I love every last thing you’ve made, Orla.”
“Wait till you taste the dessert.” She took her first bite, making me happy not to be eating alone.
Picking up the dessert that resembled banana bread, I sniffed it. “Almost smells like pumpkin pie. With extra cinnamon. And there’s a hint of whisky, too. And are those raisins I see?”
“You’ve nearly told me every ingredient in it, Warner. Bravo for you and your brilliant nose.”
“I had no idea I had a sharp nose until now.” Her compliments made me happy. She had a way of making me feel special. She had a way of making me want to be more than I was.
“After dinner, my plan is to watch movies and just hang out. Would that be okay with you?”
Being that we’d be lying on the bed to watch the movies, it was more than okay with me. “I’m game.”
Her head tilted as she looked at me with wide eyes. “And that means what, exactly?”
“Yeah, it’s cool with me if we do that.” I didn’t want to sound too eager and start jumping up and down—even though that was precisely what I wanted to do. “Chilling and watching movies sounds good to me, baby.”
Smiling, she went back to eating her food. “Good. I was afraid you’d find it a boring way to spend an evening. But the truth is that I spend five nights out of seven working at the bar. On my days off, I like to enjoy some quiet time, watching movies and just hanging out at home.”
“So, you’re showing me a typical night for you when you’re not working.” I liked how she wanted to show more of herself to me. I also hoped to see more of her than I’d seen so far. More skin, to be specific.
“I am. It’s funny. You showed me how you spend your nights, cooking on your patio then sitting in your comfy chair watching television. You and I do the same things.” She sighed. “We like the same foods, too. I’ve been noticing.”
“You bring out different things in me. Do I bring out anything different in you?” I finished off the last bit of the meal before going for the dessert.
“I have noticed that you bring out something I call hominess. Like, I want to cook for you. I’ve rarely cooked for anyone I’ve dated. And I’ve never just hung out and watched movies with any of the men I’ve seen either. I preferred to go out with them. Sometimes we’d go back to their place but never to mine. But you—you, I would take home.”
“Wow. I would be one you would take home. A high compliment indeed.” It felt amazing to hear her say that. To hear that I ranked better than any other man she’d been with.
“My parents would adore you.” She put her fork down, picking up her drink, and holding it between her hands as if it were a cup of coffee. “Pity.”
Trying to change the topic, I took a bite of the dessert. “So much better than banana bread.”
